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Nephryn's eyes flew open and shut again just as suddenly. She flinched as shafts of sunlight broke over the eastern horizon heralding the new day. Indeed, as she sat up, raising herself up on her elbows, she judged it to be four, perhaps even five hours after sunrise. That meant that she'd easily slept for six hours. She frowned at this, for it was not her way to sleep so long, and she'd had less exertion yesterday than for the past three weeks.
Groaning softly as sore muscles in her back and legs pinched tight, the elf pulled herself upright, dusting away the dust and grasses that clung damply to her cloak. As she stood, she noticed to her surprise, that all four men slept. She was no expert, but it did seem rather careless that they would not divide out the watch duties.
She crossed over to where Éomer lay curled up, his heavy coarse wool cloak drawn up over his cheeks. Gently, not wishing to startle him, she tapped him lightly on the shoulder. She was surprised when his eyes flew open at the instant her fingertips touched his body. They darted about, trying to ascertain his whereabouts, and then he turned and sat up. Silent question was set in his features.
Nephryn did not speak but merely pointed to the morning sky with one finger, indicating that they should move on. The man understood instantly and nodded curtly. As he stood to wake his companions, Nephryn went over to her pack and began to fold up her belongings. She rolled up the pack and secured her quiver to it before she hoisted it onto her back. She grabbed her bow and walked over to where Elune stood, patiently waiting to depart once more.
The horse whinnied and neighed at the sight of her new charge. Nephryn smiled fondly at the reaction and pulled out her flagon of water. She poured a small measure into her cupped palm and brought it to the horse's mouth. The great mare drank eagerly. It was nowhere near enough to sate her, but it would do for now.
When she turned back to the men of Rohan, they stood ready and awake. They appeared to her to be quite regimented and efficient. Before she made to mount up, she removed her longknife from her pack and affixed it once more to the leather sash that tied her tunic. Without word to Éomer, she clutched the Elune's mane in order to lever herself onto the steed's back. She was more assured today that the creature would not bolt. Though it took no small amount of effort by already strained muscles she managed to clamber awkwardly onto the mare's back.
They left at a gallop, and for three hours they travelled in the crisp spring air, and the young sun beat down on their weary limbs. They had less than two hours of journey remaining when thunder rumbled in the still cool air. It seemed that the conditions for such weather were not exactly ideal, but these were strange times, and quite often, the elf discovered that many things did not follow their natural course. And so it was this logic she clung bitterly to when the heavens opened. To stop and seek out shelter was futile. There was none in the vicinity and to search it out would only prolong their exposure.
Nephryn not even pause to draw her spare cloak around her. As the downpour stung her face and beat heavily on her head and shoulders, she knew that it would make no difference. Éomer shouted over the rumble in the skies to increase their pace, and the horses galloped full tilt toward Edoras. The rain that sluiced down was an opaque curtain that all but blinded her as wall after wall of water hurtled past her
When the deluge finally eased, Nephryn pushed tendrils of sodden hair back from her equally soaked shoulders and face. The cool south winds picked up then and the sorry crew began to feel the effects of their misfortune as they drew near to Edoras. The biting winds cut through the layers of her clothing, and Nephryn could not suppress the rattle of her teeth as they galloped on.
Sun broke in pools through the heavy purple clouds that seemed to have appeared from nowhere. Nephryn could just make out the city of Edoras in the near distance. Rolling hills along the south marked the border of the plains of Rohan. Edoras lay in all its splendour along the crest of the hills. It was not large by her reckoning, and yet it had a regal presence. It was not built cowering, nestled in the foot of the hills. Instead, it was conceived such that it presided and watched over its lands.
She heard the chorus of the men behind her. She turned back, only to see two of the horsemen race past her. One hoisted high a flag, extolled with the same emblem as on the shields. Éomer rode up next to her, and she was relieved to see that she was not alone in her suffering. The horse lord's lips were tinged with blue, and his grip on the reins was stiff. The rain had slicked back his hair and it hung over his shoulder, rivulets of water dripping down and gathering in the grooves of his armour. He held up his hand, indicating that she should slow down.
"They will ride ahead to announce our presence. There have been too many incursions in our lands, and our border guards have been instructed to shoot first. We shall await here until they bring word that the eastern approach is safe." The horse lord informed her as he shielded his eyes.
The sun finally broke through the gloom and the rest of the clouds dispelled quickly. The pair returned quickly with news that the there was a large pack of wolves in the eastern fields and that they could not signal the Marshal's arrival. Éomer scowled deeply as the news was relayed to him.
"We shall have to take the western path." He muttered darkly. He nodded once to the returned pair and they departed once more, without so much as a word. Clearly this was something of a routine.
As they neared the foot of the steep hills, Nephryn watched as Éomer scanned the top of the steep hill. Moments later both spotted thick draughts of black smoke. The horseman said nothing, and Nephryn assumed that it was a signal that the pair had reached the top. As they began the arduous ascent, she could feel that the ground was slick beneath Elune's hooves. As the mare struggled upwards, Nephryn considered dismounting, but she realised that her weight was negligible and it was likely that her walking would only slow their progress further. Casting a quick glance behind, she could see that hers was not the only steed struggling. The two men who'd rode ahead had plundered the ground and now there was little more than rivers of saturated earth all around. The horses tossed their heads wildly as they sought leverage in the loose ground. There was little by was of root or grasses that might hold the sodden earth together, and with each step the heavy horses' hooves ploughed deeper into sludge.
Seeing the difficulties Éomer shouted something unintelligible to her ears, but apparently the horse lord's men understood. Soon they were travelling in a single line across the slope, each blazing their own trail. Éomer seemed to have taken the path with the least leverage, because his steed was snorting anxiously as she toiled to put each hoof in front of the other. Try as she might to concentrate on her own horse, Nephryn could see that Éomer was fighting a losing battle.
"Éomer! You must discard some of your armour!!" She cried out.
The man did not reply and did not seem to heed her warning for a moment, but then saw that the horse was slipping further each time it tried to move forward. With one hand still on the reins, he began to frantically pull at the clasps of the armour. His shoulder and chest plates fell away and clattered down the hill. For a moment, it seemed like the sudden drop in weight was enough to drive the horse up, but then she began to struggle again, more forcefully now. Her spindle legs scrambled but it was no use.
"No!!" Nephryn cried out. She guided Elune toward the mare. When she was within reach, she held out her hand to Éomer.
"Take my hand!"
Éomer was still juggling the reins and trying to shed some of the weight. Nephryn watched as his mighty broadsword slipped away behind him, but still the horse struggled.
"You must. It is the only way to save the horse and yourself."
It seemed that that was the exact argument that broke his hesitation. He looked around him wildly and saw the true extent of his difficulties. The path ahead was no better than the one behind. He called out to Elune and the mare sidled closer to his own ailing steed. With a gasp, he leapt from his own horse and onto the Elune, in front of Nephryn.
Elune clambered onward. Nephryn could see the summit now. Three of Éomer's men stood at the top, watching anxiously. But as close as they were, the hill got steeper before it flattened out. Elune wasn't going to make it alone. Nephryn began to chant softly. She could not use her hands, because she clung to Éomer in order to stay on the horse. The spell could not be completed properly without the use of her hands, and the strength infused in the horse was less than she hoped for.
She shut her eyes. The safety of flat ground was painfully close but she heard Éomer urge Elune on and felt sure they would all fall to their deaths. Perhaps if there wasn't quite so much weight for the horse to bear…
But as soon as her grip on Éomer's waist slackened, he grabbed her hand with his. He'd understood her intentions immediately and would have none of it.
At that moment, Éomer's men threw a length of rope to them. Éomer caught it and attached it to the reins. Within in minutes, all three were pulled to safety. Éomer jumped to the ground deftly and held out his arms to assist Nephryn. For once, she accepted his aid without hesitation, for she was truly glad to have solid ground beneath her feet.
They walked in silence toward the gate, Éomer leading both Elune and his own steed, while Nephryn walked next to him. As they approached the guard, the horse lord leaned down and pulled the hood of her cloak over her head as he spoke softly in her ear.
"Speak to no one until I have consulted with the King."
He did not look at her but at the guards, raising his arm in greeting. The guards bowed their heads solemnly in reply, casting curious glances at the hooded stranger.
Once inside, the gates were shut quickly. Edoras was quite unlike anything she'd come across before. It was… peculiar. Rivendell was serene, glorious. Lothlorién was mystical, surreptitious. But Edoras was a both regal and stately, and yet homely and familiar.
On the steep slopes leading to the main courtyard, small thatched houses dotted the hillside, perched precariously and yet presiding over the splendour of the plains. Simple, unadorned constructs of wood and thatch. Wordlessly, he bid them follow into the expanse walled courtyard. Despite the relative singularity of colour, the scene was before them was lush. To one side, stables extended along one wall and disappeared around a corner. The stables themselves but half full still buzzed with life as carers tended to the great and infamous steeds of the Rohirrm. Some still donned armour and marquees, while others grazed lazily in the mid morning sun. Such quaint colloquialism was diminished though by the contrast on the opposite side. Long store rooms opened out onto the yard, but shining mail and helms glinted out from the darkness within. Houses were scattered in rough lines, forming impromptu streets, but above it all was Meduseld. That which was visible even from the plains now shone in opulent glory. The golden hall was not named so for no reason, for it was exactly that. The roof that sloped down toward the court was a symphony of gold and platinum, mingled with burnished orange of the unrefined electrum that was so common among the mined gold of Middle Earth. It bathed the small city in a soft amber glow. Set on ground stone foundations, the buttresses and doors of the steepled hall were festooned with sumptuous gold carvings. Windows of stained glass cast soft hues along the stone. The sight was breathtaking. It was the great hall of Meduseld that marked Edoras from other Rohirrim settlements.
As they approached it, a woman appeared on the steps. Flowing white gown and strawberry blond hair whipped in the wind as she looked down. Éomer handed the reins to Nephryn as he broke away from the group and jogged toward the woman. Nephryn watched as he greeted her with a chaste hug. She spoke briefly, and though the words themselves were lost the roar of the winds, it was clear from Éomer's reaction that his absence had brought ill tidings. He bowed is head, pressing his hand to his heart. The woman swiped at unseen tears. He spoke only briefly to her before heading inside the hall. The woman descended slowly, taking time to compose herself before she came to greet them.
"Please come with me," she commanded softly, avoiding Nephryn's eyes. Wordlessly, Nephryn handed the reins to the men who stood awaiting Éomer's return.
Nephryn followed her inside an annex to the great hall. It led to the living quarters of the family of Théoden King. The women brought them into a bedroom and shut the door firmly.
"I'm an Éowyn, sister to Éomer. I apologise for the way in which you are greeted, but an ill wind has befallen us this hour. I have just informed Éomer that our cousin and heir to the throne of Rohan, Théodred has died by the blade of Orcs."
"I offer my condolence to you and your family. I am Nephryn of Lothlorién. I am merely here on behalf of my companions to seek permission to travel the lands of Rohan."
"You are an elf. You will receive none."
Nephryn frowned, the harsh reply unexpected. Surely Théoden was not on ill terms with elves?
"I was not aware of any discord among elves and the Horse Lord of the Rohirrm?"
"Nay, there is none," the woman replied as her eyes hardened in barely contained rage, "but alas it is the King's counsel and not the King, who deems what is and is not favourable, and there is discord between him and many that walk this earth."
Nephryn said nothing, but instead removed her pack and sodden cloak and sat. There was nothing more to be said until such time as Éomer returned. At that moment, the door was thrown open and a seething Éomer stormed. Both elf and woman stared at him and he snarled in rage, hurtling his heavy helm at the nearest wall, where it clattered loudly to the floor.
"Aaagh! Curse that fell worm to the very depths of hell!!"
"Éomer!" his sister rebuked loudly, shocked at his behaviour.
"Do not censure me dear sister," he cried, jabbing his finger at her, "for short now is our time together. Gríma Wormtongue has banished me from my own home, upon pain of death!"
Nephryn's stared up, his name ringing in her ears.
It brought a flood of sensations prickling to life. Rarely did she ever remember details of her time at Orthanc. It was only sensations, feelings; they'd hit her repeatedly at first, across the face so that her vision was always inhibited, and so she recognised Gríma foremost by sound and smell. He'd smelt of rare meat, which he was particular to above all else, and his breathing was heavy, almost laboured as though the sight of her had aroused him, or as though he'd been trying to hold his breath. Those sensations still stuck fear in her heart and
that sly creature lived still in her nightmares.
If indeed, he was here word of her whereabouts would reach the White Wizard swiftly. It would bring all of Isengard down on Edoras, and quite probably return her to her prison. Her breath caught sharp in her chest at that.
Éowyn was stunned into silence. She backed away from Éomer at first. Tears welled up as she grappled with this news.
"He cannot banish you, he has no such power…"
"It was Théoden that banished me," the horse lord hissed as he paced in a agitated circle. "But I am quite certain that Wormtongue planted those seeds in his mind."
"You cannot leave me here, Éomer. Not with him. And now that Théodred is…" Tears flowed freely then, as she collapsed into her brother's embrace. Broken sobs echoed in the silence.
"You cannot go with me. It is dangerous, now more than ever. I will return, perhaps when his anger has cooled a little. Háma will remain. I will make quite certain that should that beast come within a league of you, he will pay with his life."
"You would leave me?" She stared up in abject despair.
"Were there another way, dear Éowyn, I would take it, but my presence here will lead to bloodshed. Not by my life will I allow that." He tightened his embrace, and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, whispering something even Nephryn could make out. He turned to leave, but Nephryn called him back.
"I would speak with you."
She led them into the hallway. She stood facing him, drawing herself to her full height.
"I must leave Edoras. I cannot stay here."
"As with my sister, Háma will keep watch over you also. Wormtongue is a puppet to the wizard Saruman, nothing more. You are of no consequence to him."
"Éomer," she sighed forcefully, "I mean no disrespect, but you know very little about Wormtongue, and less about me. I have crossed paths with him before to my detriment, and I mean not to again."
"I have not informed him of your presence. No one else will, for no one cares to have anything to do with him."
"You do not understand. If Saruman finds out that I am here, he will bring all of Isengard down on this city. For the sake of your kingdom and me, give me a horse and let me leave." Her voice cracked as desperation crept in.
"And what of my promise to Aragorn to keep you safe? I am hardly fulfilling my duty to him if I leave you to fend for yourself, alone on the plains. You are but a single elf. Better protected here within fortified walls than alone."
Anger boiled over as the fear shot through her veins like ice. When she spoke again, it was through lump of terror that stagnated in her throat.
"You know nothing of what I have endured at the hands of that creature," she spat, turning her flushed face away from him.
"And no one can protect me," she muttered in resignation. "Not even the one who has given his heart and offered his soul." Éomer stared at her, fear pinching his heart. Yet another ruthless element to Wormtongue revealed. Could he really be certain Éowyn would be safe? The choices before him were maddeningly inadequate.
"I will not stay. Therefore you have but two choices: you set me loose with a steed and supplies, or you take me with you."
Pacing the breadth of the hallway in silence, he weighed the options carefully.
"Before I make my decision, tell me this. Is my sister also in harms way, or is there some other reason for his treatment of you?"
"He has a particular interest in acquiring items I have in my possession. It is these, and these alone that he seeks - though that did not mitigate the force of his blows."
Éomer stared at her, realising in that instant that the fear that burdened her was heartfelt. He pitied her, longed to remove that pain, as he was sure many before him had tried and failed to do.
"Very well. You will depart with my company. With leave with the fall of night."
Efficiency on overdrive at the moment. Want more??